Secrets of the Tourney
by solitariusvirtus
Summary: Ashara Dayne thought herself an intelligent enough woman with enough good sense to see her through ten lifetimes not merely one. She thought the world held no secrets for her. One tourney later and she was reconsidering. Or Ned Stark starts a scandal and Ashara is thrown headlong into it.


It's the clang of metal that attracts her attention. Ashara doesn't know why. She is in a camp full of knights and their gear. One measly, shrill cry of metal scraping against metal should not attract her attention. But it does.

The sound comes from somewhere behind a line of trees. She would shy away and walk back to where Elia lies sleeping in her bed. But it is midday and she feels as if she will wilt if she has to remain within those four walls for a moment longer than she already has. So Ashara gathers her courage and with pluck that even her Kingsguard brother would be hard-pressed not to praise she marches through that same lines of tall trees that guard the path like sentinels.

The first thing she sees is a dome of foliage. Leaves rustles and pale streaks of sunlight spear through the sea of green, daringly reaching for the green grass upon the ground. But she is not here to admire the crown of green or the sweet light. She is here to make a grand discovery.

Her eyes roam around, undecided, unknowing. And then the clang comes again. This time it is followed by a curse. Ashara resists the urge to flee. There is something familiar about the voice. A reply is murmured, presumably to the invectives. The high pitch of the second voice feels like a dagger thrust through her ribs. The first person speaks once more, as if to confirm her fears.

Why it is that she does not leave is one of those questions without answer. It may well be disbelief. Or mayhap curiosity. Ashara has no name for it. Her feet move of their own accord, taking her further and further away from the line of trees.

She must see it for herself or else she will have doubts. The Dornishwoman refuses to have doubts. A firm believer that the truth should be absolute, she grabs handfuls of her skirts to keep them from rustling and walks as quietly as she can towards the origin of the sounds; Ashara needs to witness with her own eyes her dreams crumbling and tumbling.

And see she does. Anxiety and fear have been coiled so tight within her that the pressure is sure to make her heart burst, she thinks. It hurts and the pain reminds her that she ought to have been careful. It pains her so bad that for a moment she fears she might double over, or fall to her knees, or something equally dramatic. One hand presses to her chest, as if to grab at her wayward heart through flesh and bone.

Once her eyes settle upon the duo bickering beneath the heavy crown of an ancient tree, however, the tormenting ache explodes with a painfully loud sound that reverberated through her. She must have released it through her lips, because both of those observed look towards her with twin expressions of horror etched upon similar faces.

A mismatched pair of gauntlets falls to the ground. One narrowly misses the dark-haired female's foot, the other smack right against the slipper-covered toes. A sound of pain leaves the mouth of one suddenly-angry Lyanna Stark. Her brother tries to grab her by the shoulders before she can trip over one of the thick protruding roots of the tree.

The she-wolf goes down with a curse that's as foul as her brother's had been.

She cannot help it. Ashara dissolves into peals of laughter, forgetting for a moment about her worries in the face of two wolves that look rather like they would bolt. She steps away from her current resting place and walks towards the two.

It is Ned that helps up the younger female. But Ashara picks up the fallen gauntlets and hold them to her chest as if they were a treasure. And they are, of sorts. Lyanna levels a suspicious glance her way and hols one hand out for the armour pieces as soon as she has managed to regain some composure.

"Lady Ashara," she says, her voice falling flat in not quite a greeting.

"Lady Lyanna," Ashara answers, a small smile touching her face. "Eddard Stark." Her eyes turn on the young man. "I did not know you would be joining the joust." She teases, of course. Ashara had been hoping he might. But then she looks down at his shield. It doers not bear the Stark crest. Her smile slips.

"I–" Ned begin but never manages anything more for his interfering younger sister is ready to cut in.

"Is it possible that my lady has not heard it is unbearably rude to spy on others?" In that moment she looks so much like her brother that Ashara has to blink to dispel the feeling from further distracting her.

"Others would not be bothered if they hadn't secrets to hide," she answers, her eyes going back to Ned. "I would be willing to hide the secret as well though, if asked." This seems to be the outstretched hand that he'd been waiting for,

With a slightly reddening face, Ned Stark clears his throat. "Would you be willing then to keep this secret, my lady, in light of my asking you; never breath a word of it to anyone no matter how close?"

"Of course." Ashara tells herself that she doesn't need any reason. She hands one of the gauntlets into the little she-wolf's arms and takes the quiet wolf's hand in her own. Her thumb presses against his skin with the same passion that her lips would exert were his sister not present. Then she slides the gauntlet into place. "May the gods be on your side."

He doesn't say anything but his grey eyes trace the expanse of her face and in this moment it's just the two of them. There is nothing outside of him that she takes notice of. Her world has been reduced to only this.

He leans towards her and her heart beats faster. There is one half-hearted attempt on her part to remember that they are not alone, but there is no sound from the outside world, no sight to distract or interrupt.


End file.
